


Feel What I Feel

by TalysAlankil



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Dubious Consent, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Not Canon Compliant - Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalysAlankil/pseuds/TalysAlankil
Summary: After he was brought back from the past, Vanitas looks for where Aqua hid Ventus's body. But when his body resonates with Vanitas's heart, he has ideas of his own.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Feel What I Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by a comic from [Odango](https://twitter.com/OdangoButts) which I believe has been lost to the Tumblr purge, and by the Kingdom Hearts III Tokyo Game Show 2018 trailer. Yes I literally took that long to actually write this fic.

"Whatever shall I do with you, little brother?"

The sarcastic voice reached Ven's ears as if filtered through water. He tried to open his eyes, but only managed to crack them open a smidge, feeling woozy and weak as he did. The bright, sterile while light that assaulted his eyelids didn't help with the pounding in his head.

"What—" he tried to say, but it came out only as a whisper on his dry tongue, passing through drier lips.

Whoever was there with him heard it nonetheless. "You can hear me, Ventus?" The voice came from above, Ventus was pretty sure—at least it _did_ , but moments later, there was a _whoosh_ of fast, downward movement, and a click of feet hitting the hard floor in front of him. "Venty-Wenty?"

The sarcasm registered in his brain more than the voice itself, filling Ventus with an anger strong enough to force his eyes open. There, in front of him, was Vanitas, unmistakable with his bodysuit, his jet black hair, his golden eyes, his malevolent grin.

"How can you be awake?" There was disbelief under the disdain in Vanitas's voice. "Your heart is broken, far away, and deep, deep in the clutches of sleep right now. If I am to trust the old man's plan, anyway."

Ventus blinked in confusion, unsure what he meant about Ven's heart—he certainly didn't _feel_ like his heart was missing right now, even if all he felt was pure, undiluted _anger_ at the boy in front of him. He pushed himself off the throne he was sitting on, ready to summon his Keyblade and pounce, but he could barely take a step before his legs gave out and he was on his knees. Even so, that anger still raged within him—so hot, so fierce, so _dark_ , unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was all he could do to glare at Vanitas, but he tried to put as much of the hate he felt in that glare.

"Whatever's going on," he said, "if you're still working with Xehanort, then I'll stop you like I did before. No matter what it costs!"

Vanitas didn't seem taken aback by his outburst—if anything, he was studying Ventus with renewed interest. "I get it," he finally said. "Of course. Part of you heart _is_ here." He put a hand to his own chest. "Right here, to be exact. _My_ heart. All the darkness that was taken from you. Your body resonated with it." He smirked, and came to kneel in front of Ventus. "Better this withered husk of a heart than nothing, right?"

Incensed, Ven attempted to throw a punch at him, but Vanitas dodged effortlessly, laughing as he did. "I'd rather be _dead_ than have _your_ heart!" Ven spat.

"Well, we've tried that. It was _boring_." Vanitas stood up and circled Ventus, staying just a step away from him as he did. "But I wonder. That fire in your eyes—it's anger, isn't it? Anger and hate. But those are _my_ feelings, not yours. And there are other things I feel for you."

Vanitas crouched again, behind Ventus this time, who still felt too weak to move. He braced for an attack, but instead, Vanitas just leaned close to him, his lips hovering next to Ven's ear as he wrapped an arm around Ven's chest, under his arms.

"What're you—" Ven started, but his voice died in a gasp as heat rushed through his body.

"You feel _that_ too, don't you?" Vanitas whispered in his ear. He pushed himself up to his feet, pulling Ven along as he did.

The shift in position dragged the fabric of Ven's clothes across his skin, making him shiver. In this position, it was hard to hide the way his pants were tenting at his crotch—to Vanitas, or to himself. "What're you—" he repeated, feeling dumb.

"Don't play coy with me," Vanitas snickered against him. "I feel it too, now that I know what to look for. An echo that comes from you—what _you're_ feeling right now." He pressed his body flush against Ven's back, and Ven felt a hard line pressing against his ass. "This is turning you on as much as me."

"I—you're wrong!" Ven couldn't suppress a hint of panic from his voice, because it _couldn't_ be true, could it? Vanitas had said his body was reacting to Vanitas's heart, that he was feeling what Vanitas was feeling. That _had_ to be it—this heat he felt, this rush through his vein, the shortness of his breath, all of it had to be coming from Vanitas, not him.

Then why did it feel exactly like the feelings _were_ his own? He didn't have a lot to compare it to—no one he'd ever had a crush on—but he was a teenager. He'd felt arousal before, and this felt just like being aroused.

Vanitas remained still as Ven's thoughts spun out of control, one arm across Ven's chest to give him support, and his other hand pressed against Ven's stomach, sending jolts of electricity on Ven's skin.

"Everything all right, Ventus? Do you need something?"

Vanitas's teasing voice revived the anger in his heart. "Not from _you_ ," he spat, managing to turn his head halfway and meet Vanitas's eyes. "Never from _you_. That's _messed up_."

"Why? You and I, we're part of the same person, aren't we? Think of it like pleasing yourself." He bit his lips, and the sight of his sharp teeth looked positively _decadent_ to Ventus. What would those teeth feel like against his skin—

Wait. Why was he even thinking that? What was _wrong_ with him?

He squirmed and looked away, but Vanitas only chuckled. "Oh, you felt something, didn't you? Something that was entirely from _you_."

"You're just messing with my head!" Ven argued—if only for the sake of his own sanity.

"Oh, no. I know what you felt." As if to demonstrate, he bent his head, gently grazing Ven's neck with his teeth and his lips. "I'm not much for self-love, Ventus. You know that much. So you know I wouldn't think _that_ about myself."

"I don't even have a heart to feel anything of my own. You said it yourself."

"Ah, well, who knows how these things work?" Vanitas chuckled. "I don't think your heart matters as much as your _body_ right now." His hand on Ven's stomach drifted lower, stopping at the buckle of Ven's belt.

Ven hissed a sharp breath at the way the stroke felt—it was so little, muted by so many layers of clothing. He needed so much _more_.

As if in answer, Vanitas worked the buckle undone, and the fly of Ven's pants. They fell to the floor and Ven let out a small cry of relief. His cock was rock hard, and the fabric had been constraining it _so_ bad—his underwear was still in the way, but much more supple, much more willing to stretch for him.

Vanitas snickered again, and tugged at Ven's waistband. Ven's cock sprang upwards immediately, and Ven held his breath, bracing for contact; instead, however, Vanitas let go of the waistband, letting it snap against Ven's skin, trapping his cock against his stomach.

"Well?" Vanitas said. "All you gotta do is ask."

Ven was tempted to keep holding his breath until he passed out, but all it took was a brush of Vanitas's gloved fingers against the small strip of exposed skin at his stomach to make him hiss with _want_. His entire body burned with a fire that was altogether different from his earlier anger—even if that anger was still there.

"Why are you even doing this?" he managed to say. "What do you _want_?"

"I think it's clear what I _want_ right now. After all, you feel that same want yourself." Another teasing, fluttering touch, making Ven's mind go blank for an instant. "Like I said, you just need to ask."

Ven turned glassy eyes to look back at Vanitas, unable to put up any more of a fight. "Please," he said weakly.

Vanitas's hand moved instantly, pulling at Ven's waistband so hard as to tear it a little, causing his underwear to pool around his feet atop his pants. Ven didn't have time to care about that, though, because Vanitas's hand closed around his cock with a rough, firm grip.

Ven threw his head back, what little strength he had abandoning him the moment Vanitas's hand moved. He leaned back against Vanitas's hard, strong body, resting his head on Vanitas's shoulder, pressing his ass harder against Vanitas's hard cock, baring his neck to Vanitas.

He felt wisps of smoke brush against his skin, and the texture against his cock shifted; when he looked back down, he realized that Vanitas's suit had disappeared, leaving his skin bare—at his hand, but also the rest of him. Ven couldn't manage to feel bothered by that anymore; he gave in to the heat of Vanitas's body, closing his eyes.

He felt the heat of Vanitas's cock sliding against the crack of his ass, rutting up against the base of his back as he kept pumping at Ven's own cock with wild abandon. All Ven could do was match Vanitas's rhythm, matching Vanitas's thrusts with his own hips, crying out noises that felt like his only outlet for the burning heat rising within him.

Vanitas bent his head again, his lips finding the base of Ven's neck. He bit down, as hard as he could without breaking the skin, and the mix of burning pain and electrified pleasure felt like a condensate of every sensation coursing through Ven's body right now.

"Vanitas!" he cried out, because if he had let things go _this_ far, he might as well call out his name as he came. Orgasm hit him as violently as every other sensation, clenching his body with so much force as to be painful. Vanitas kept pumping his cock, even as his hand got covered in slick come, and the sensations pushed past pleasure into pain, then looped back into pleasure again, over and over, enough to make Ven's mind break.

He felt the wet heat of Vanitas's orgasm against his lower back, but it was the only hint Vanitas gave that he came—that, and the way his movements slowed down after that. He let out a soft laugh, but one that was no less cruel than his usual laughter, and let go of Ven completely.

Ven's legs felt like jelly, but in a way that felt normal after an orgasm—he still felt like he'd recovered enough strength to keep standing. He managed a single step forward— _away_ from Vanitas—before his pants around his ankles forced him to stop. With a frustrated growl, he bent down to pick up his clothes, ignoring the wet stains on the fabric as he pulled his pants back up.

"Thanks for _that_ view," Vanitas teased behind him, and Ven's cheeks started burning—with a blush, but also with uncontrollable tears that traced hot tracks against his skin.

"I'm sure you're happy with yourself," he spat, only turning halfway to look at Vanitas—he couldn't manage more than that, couldn't look Vanitas in the face right now. To his surprise, the expected jeering comeback didn't come; Vanitas only looked at him silently. Ven's anger didn't allow for silence, though, so he kept going. "Well, congratulations, you win! I hate that I enjoyed it so much!" More tears streamed down his face as he admitted it—but there was no point lying, so at least he could speak the ugly truth out loud.

"I—"

"You want me to feel your anger and hate?" Ven forced himself to turn fully. "You _fucking_ win! _Fuck_ you, Vanitas!"

He managed to look up, to take in Vanitas's face, which was frozen in a strange mask. Horror and surprise battled it out, but above all, there was confusion. Shock. Disbelief. Incomprehension. "Ventus—" he said, his voice barely a whisper, devoid his its usual bite.

Ventus didn't care to decipher it, to piece together this new trick? " _Fuck off_ , Vanitas. Just fuck off out of here. You say my heart's broken and trapped elsewhere? Well I stand by what I said! I'd rather be dead than have _your_ heart be what keeps me alive!"

He managed to step forward, and attempted a punch. It landed weakly against Vanitas's chest, yet it still made Vanitas flinch.

His reaction brought more tears out of Ventus—frustration at his own powerlessness, and at being mocked like this. "Just leave me," he said, his voice breaking. He pushed past Vanitas, knocking his shoulder against Vanitas's as he made his way back to the throne, on which he curled up in a ball.

"As you wish."

Ven heard the Corridor of Darkness appear before he'd even turned around and settled in his seat. By the time he was back in his position, Vanitas crossed the dark threshold. Within seconds, numbness washed over him, then the darkness swallowed him once again.


End file.
